Kissed by her own fire
by emmiemac
Summary: Sansa returns North to fight


Sansa Stark.

Little bird.

Lady Lannister.

Alayne Stone.

Sweetling.

She has been called all these things, as well as stupid, and clever; a lady, a murderess and a bastard.

Beautiful, sweet, courteous: the perfect lady.

Eldest daughter of a great house, then last surviving child of a traitor.

Betrothed of a prince and a king, wife of the Imp; betrothed of one heir to the Vale, and then the next.

The key to the North.

Heir to Winterfell; even the Queen in the North, she was styled by those who hoped to claim the North through her.

Warrior.

No one had ever called her that, or thought to call her that.

She smiles: not vacuously or serenely, but knowingly, a touch slyly, and proudly.

She has fought her way back; with help of course, she had to learn to fight, to let her hurt and her sadness and her anger, her boundless, furious rage be harnessed and disciplined and honed with fierce cries and the strong sweep of a blade and the thrust of a dagger or a spear.

She is a spearwive; she fights alongside the wildlings now: she and Sandor. She is his wife: the wildlings believe he stole her when in truth she stole him away to a heart tree to speak the words before the ancient weirwood. Sansa Stark returned to Winterfell to reclaim her home but Jon was there, Jon Snow, now King in the North because her brother, her own brother, Robb, had put him ahead of her in line for Winterfell. Her own family thought her a Lannister, and no longer a Stark; so she is Sansa Clegane and a wildling now though she is sister to the Lord o' crows to them, and the woman of the burned man. She has red hair and is "kissed by fire" they call it but it is Sandor who has truly felt fire's kiss and they think him fierce and fearless but she knows. She knows the fire they need to fight the wights frightens him and so he wields a dragonglass blade and dagger while she shoots arrows tipped with dragonglass or lit with fire to kill their enemies.

She likes killing. Sandor once said killing is the sweetest thing there is, and though they have known sweeter things together, she also understands now. She likes being fierce and angry and fighting for the North and its people and her family's legacy, and for her family.

The wildlings think she is beautiful and strong and Northern. She is filled now with a wild sense of freedom: she can do as she likes and her once-Westerner-now-wildling husband will nod and raise his horn of ale to her and then sweep her into his massive arms and tell her she is beautiful. She wears leathers and furs and lies with him at night and it is good. But he looks at her sadly too: she is not the girl she once was, the sweet summer child with the gentle courtesies and soft voice full of songs. His little bird has grown wide wings and talons and can give a mighty shrieking battle cry that carries across the Northern snows when she fights and kills alongside him. She had fought battles before, gently, carefully, with her wits, but she can fight different battles now. She has gotten used to looking at killers.

Jon has said when the war against the Others is over, he will reward them with a castle and lands. He thinks she wants to be a lady again, he knows Winterfell should be hers and he looks away from her sheepishly but he looks on her proudly too, and insists to the other Northern lords that she sit in council with them along with her husband. In council, the wildling Tormund who also looks admiringly on her and calls her a red wolf and tells Sandor to treat her well or she'll leave him and then a real wilding will steal her away though he fears for any man that is fool enough to mistreat her. He knows she will not take mistreatment meekly. She will not take it at all. Not anymore. Never again.

Sandor's mouth twitches a wry smile. He treats her very well.

She rests her hand on her swelling belly under her furs as they lie together in the night. She hears the wolves howl in the darkness, knowing they have come again with a vengeance; and she smiles back at him.


End file.
